As I have now chosen to treat myself kind
Conflagration the property of my mind
I find some fragments of the memory near
It's a deafening tone I must force to not hear
Like the echolalia of the parrot, mimicking my move
I must not learn to get back into that groove
I must move into the direction of the healing
And learn to become hooked on that feeling
Take that lens cap off and see from different views
It's not all what it seems; not all are dusty hues
4/13/14 Written by ©Diana Jillian
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